Impulse
by Talbot-Stark
Summary: Len vaguely reflected that the last time he'd worn a tuxedo like this, he'd been in the concours with Kahoko--and he'd felt exactly the same way." Len has a nightmare. Oneshot, KahoxLen.


_Ahaha I love writing for _La Corda.

_Some other fanfiction gave me the idea for the beginning of this. I don't quite recall which, but it was amazing, and the idea and everything is copyright that author. And La Corda doesn't belong to me._

_Which sucks, seriously._

xxx

_Len vaguely reflected that the last time he'd worn a tuxedo like this, he'd been in the concours with Kahoko--and he'd felt exactly the same way._

_His stomach tightened apprehensively, and the butterflies inside squirmed, electrified; he could make out almost every face in the audience, Yunoki and Hihara and Shimizu and Fuyuumi and even Nami Amou, that endearing pest. His mother sat in front, dabbing at her eyes and sniffing, a woman beside her with long emerald curls patting her shoulders and letting the tears fall freely, smiling despite the wetness on her cheeks. Wagner's March continued, slow and methodical, and suddenly, at the back of the room, he heard a gasp._

_His eyes widened, and he couldn't help it, couldn't bear it--he whirled around to face her, she smiling nervously and gliding smoothly down the aisle, and his breath hitched in the back of his throat._

_Never in his life had he seen a vision more impossibly gorgeous; her deep crimson hair fell in waves down her back, spilling over her shoulders, the veil doing nothing to obscure those eyes--those _eyes_--amber, flecked with gold and sparkling in the light streaming from stained glass windows. She was absolutely radiant, glowing, and for a moment he forgot to breathe, forgot who he was._

_Then, next to him, someone cleared his throat._

_Len's surroundings came flooding back to him, dizzying in their abruptness, and he glanced to his side. Tsuchiura, looking equally as nervous as Len was; he took a deep breath, closing his eyes and concentrating, then smiled weakly as Kahoko came to a stop between the two men._

_"Do you, Tsuchiura Ryoutarou, take Hino Kahoko to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, 'til death do you part?"_

_Len could just barely stifle the choked half-sob that threatened to escape his lips, nearly doubling over at the sudden stabbing pain in his chest._

_Tsuchiura flashed him a final lopsided grin before answering steadily, "I do."_

_"And do you, Hino Kahoko..."_

No,_ Len thought quietly, desperately, pleadingly, and his mother continued to sob. _No, Kaho. Please.

_"...take Tsuchiura Ryoutarou..."_

I love you.

_"...to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health..."_

I _love _you...

_"...'til death do you part?"_

Please.

_Kahoko took a deep breath and stole a sidelong glance towards Len, filled with such indescribable happiness, such gratitude--such fucking _gratitude_--Len felt as though something were tearing him in half, slowly, agonizingly, painfully, and then--_

_"I do."_

_He looked away at the priest's final words, so neither would have to see the flames reflecting in his eyes, burning him from the inside out like a man at the stake._

_Funny how Wagner's March, under the right circumstances, could sound like a dirge._

And the light on his ceiling exploded to life, his grandmother cried, "You've never been late to school in your _life!"_, and Len woke with a start. Groggy and disoriented, he managed to slide out of his bed, throw his uniform in roughly the right places, grab his violin case, run a comb through his hair a few times, and rush out the door with half a strawberry-granola power bar in his mouth, muttering a muffled "goodbye" to his grandmother before it slammed shut.

So it had been a dream. _Thank God,_ half of him was thinking, relieved, but the other half shot back suspiciously, _Her romantic life is none of your business and never has been, before you started taking an interest in it. Why would you care, anyway, if she married Tsuchiura?_

Neither half of his mind could answer, so he contented himself with munching on his power bar and attempting to free a hand to catch the crumbs, which was proving difficult in itself.

_Tsuchiura_ at the alter, standing beside her; _Tsuchiura_ saying "I do"; the priest saying _Tsuchiura's_ name instead of his and Kahoko _agreeing_ to it--why, _why,_ did that cause him so much unease? Besides the fact that the thought of Tsuchiura getting what he very obviously wanted disgusted him beyond reasonable belief--he growled softly in the back of his throat. That arrogant pianist always got his way, whether he worked for it or not, like he could dance his way through life without doing the hard work, getting by on raw talent only. Len had never before wanted to punch someone so badly in his life.

But no, it was something other than that--perhaps the thought of Kahoko in _his_ arms, sighing _his_ name--his stomach writhed in pleasure at the thought, and he mentally smacked himself. _ Inappropriate, you asshole._

He reached the grounds in record time, going through the day as usual, with minimal contact: math was fine, science easy, German even simpler, English absolutely nothing, Music Theory hardly worth paying attention to. Finally it came time to deposit his things in Kanazawa's room, the new designated meeting place for the previous concours participants.

He vaguely wondered why he still came here, despite the competition being over; it had seemed everyone had managed, somehow, to put aside whatever they used to do at lunch to congregate, like they used to when they were rivals.

Then Kahoko walked in, Len's stomach lurched, and he remembered. _That _was why he still came here.

She smiled brightly at the sight of him, alone in the classroom, propped against the window with Shakespeare cradled gently in his hands, and his lips twitched upward instinctively. She noticed, and flushed a momentary, delicate pink before setting her bags down at a nearby table and sitting at a desk near him. "Hello, Tsukimori-kun."

"Hino." Why did he always sound so damn unfriendly?

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "How are you?"

He blinked, then looked out the window, to distract himself. "A little shaken," he answered truthfully, surprising himself, and Kahoko 'hm'ed slightly, her voice curious.

"Why?"

"I..." He hesitated, then surprised himself again: "Had a nightmare."

"Oh!" This obviously wasn't what Kahoko had been expecting; thank God he couldn't see her face, or he would have blushed violently, he knew it. "About what?" She paused, seeming to realize a mistake, and added quickly, "Or is it too sc--oh, ah, uncomfortable?"

Scary. A laughable word for a sixteen-year-old to use to describe a nightmare; but then, he realized suddenly, that was exactly what the dream had been. Scary as hell.

"Actually, it _was_ scary." He chuckled despite himself, feeling suddenly lighter than he'd felt in months. "You married Tsuchiura and I had to watch."

The moment the words spilled out of his mouth, his eyes widened, his face drained of color, and his heart skipped a beat before starting to pound. All the blood immediately rushed to his face again, causing it to flush scarlet. "I-I mean--"

_What the fuck. _ It wasn't a question; his mind was screaming at him, and the time for questions had passed. _Youtotaldumbasswhythehellwouldyou_say_that._

He whirled around to see Kahoko staring dumbly at him, her lips parted in a small "o", and there was a very long pause, the silence hanging suspended in the air for moments, eternities.

Finally--

"Tsukimori-kun?"

Kahoko spoke tentatively, her amber orbs still wide as saucers, and Len started, flushing even deeper. "Yes?"

She blinked slowly; then, her lips turned upwards into a tiny smile. "That _would_ be scary, wouldn't it?"

Before he had time to register what he was doing, he had crossed the distance between them in three long strides, cradled her chin in his fingers, and pressed his lips softly to hers.

_"What the hell?"_

Both leaped a foot apart and whirled wildly to face Kanazawa and the five concours participants, all with different expressions on their faces: Kanazawa looked mildly pleased, Hihara shattered, Shimizu wide awake, Fuyuumi in awe, Yunoki like a child in a candy shop.

But Len wasn't looking at any of _them._

His eyes were fixed instead on Tsuchiura, whose teeth were bared dangerously, his eyes narrowed to murderous slits, his hands gripping the doorknob as though willing them to throttle Len's neck instead.

He couldn't help it, couldn't bear it; his face broke into a wide grin.

Kahoko turned pink, then shuffled her feet, studying the tiles on the floor and glancing nervously up at Len every other moment. Len was still frozen, grinning like a fool. Finally Kanazawa broke the silence, his voice heartily amused.

"Kissing the girl in an empty classroom? I thought you were a little more creative, Tsukimori."

He was smirking, and so was Yunoki, and Tsuchiura growled low in his chest. Len blinked back at Kahoko, who tilted her head with a small grin, as though wondering what to expect. He lifted his hand, experimentally, brushed a lock of crimson hair out of her eyes.

"Impulse," he said softly, and Kahoko giggled lightly--and the sound was like music.

xxx

_Don't worry, Ryo. You can have me. I play piano, too._

_Green button wants you to click it, plz._


End file.
